Sometimes it feels like small, rural church ministry is brutal. It’s not the people or lack of resources–it’s the pace.  Establishing yourself in a community, restoring reputations and relationships, creating change all happen at a tortoise’s pace.  But, we know how that fable ends.

It’s the well-meaning folks who ask when we’ll be looking for a real church like this one doesn’t count.  This is our church and these are our people—this is our community.

Sometimes it feels crazy, entirely impossible, and slightly ridiculous. But I can’t let go. There is a seed in my heart that has sprouted.  In the depths, I know He can.  In the ugly and frustration and in the waiting, it lingers still.  Faith is the belief in what we cannot see.  It’s got me.

We know well enough when it’s time to move on, and we know when we’ve been asked to stay.  It doesn’t make sense, not by anyone’s normal standards, but until He decides otherwise.  We will remain–planting seeds and praying for sprouts.